The snow under the shoes creaks
it brings us back to the smells and sounds
of a time when the thoughts vanished
hanging to the wings of the crows out to pasture
on the steaming piles of mature manure,
in the chill of cold winter mornings,
when the land rests and feeds
to turn to life with a smile
of green pasture in May.
Our heart is awake
on these memories and hopes
one day to live them again.
Live them and share them with love
received and given,
all the love that our heart
can hold and pour!
PG February 14, 2011
